


Livin' On A Prayer

by raineynight713



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fix-It, M/M, post-Tall Tales, takes place in season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 22:51:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17170958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raineynight713/pseuds/raineynight713
Summary: Sam is in a tight spot, and Gabriel makes a decision that will affect the entire world. Hopefully for the better.





	Livin' On A Prayer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imsosupernatural](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imsosupernatural/gifts).



> This is a gift for imsosupernatural on tumblr for the Sabriel Holiday Gift Exchange 2018. They asked for cute nicknames, cheesy/sassy Sam, and wings&crowns. I included the nicknames and the wings and crown.

After leaving Crawford Hall, Sam couldn’t get the trickster out of his head. Something about the whole confrontation seemed off to him. The trickster hadn’t been worried enough at being figured out. Most monsters, when they realized the jig was up, dropped the friendly facade and turned nasty. But he’d been playful right up to the end, like it didn’t matter that they’d come to kill him, and it’d set off the little part of Sam’s brain that said ‘everything is not as it seems’. It could be put down to hubris; as a demigod, the trickster had probably been used to things going his way, and just assumed the humans would fail where others had before. But Sam had the uncomfortable feeling that instead, it had been well-deserved confidence that no human could kill him. Even though it appeared Dean had done just that, Sam had his doubts.

The only evidence that there might be some truth to his suspicion was a nagging thought regarding the illusions and the way they had disappeared, or failed to. The chainsaw wielding maniac had vanished when the trickster ‘died’. The women had too, but they’d given almost mocking gasps of surprise as they did, which struck him as strange, looking back on it. There was also the bed, which hadn’t disappeared at all.

He was probably just being paranoid. And even _if_ he was right and the trickster had somehow managed to survive, and that was a big if, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. The trickster was a killer, but he at least had the decency to go after assholes instead of innocents. That was more than could be said about 99% of what Sam and Dean hunted.

A little voice in the back of his head whispered about the cute janitor with the golden eyes, but Sam ignored it as best he could.

No matter how many times he tried to forget about the trickster, his thoughts refused to drop the subject.

* * *

 

Sam was surrounded on all sides, with no way to defend himself and no way to escape. Dean was unconscious a few feet away, outside the circle of encroaching demons. Nervous sweat ran down his neck as he tried in vain to think of some way out of his current predicament. This couldn’t be the end, in some small town that they’d stopped in for gas and food. They hadn’t even been there on a hunt! That didn’t matter though; what mattered was that they’d been lured into a trap by an entire group of demons. There had to be at least twelve of them. It’d be a nearly impossible fight even with Dean at his back. With him unconscious and Sam on his own, he didn’t have a hope.

As was his habit in situations where it looked like he wouldn’t make it out alive, he sent up a quick prayer. _If anyone’s listening, I could really use some help right now. I know I probably don’t deserve it, but please just save Dean. Please._

Just as he concluded that the only thing he could do was go down fighting, his eyes snapped shut with no input from him. There was a blinding flash that he could make out even with his eyes closed, and then the silhouette of something with six huge wings fanned out around it. An almighty roar rang through the air and the demons screamed as the building and the ground and the very air itself trembled. The sound of something rustling, loud enough that it could be confused for a crashing wave, was heard before everything was abruptly silent. The light was gone, and all Sam could see was the black of his tightly shut lids. Cautiously, he cracked his eyes open, unsure of what he would find.

The answer was nothing. It looked a normal warehouse, with no trace that a fight had taken place. The demons were just _gone_ , not even the smell of sulfur lingered. Dean looked like he was sleeping peacefully now rather than unconscious with a possible concussion. The only thing out of place was a small dot of color on the floor. Bending down, Sam picked it up and realized it was a sweetheart candy that said ‘i must be in heaven’ on one side and ‘bc im lookin at an angel ;)’ on the other.

He frowned as his thoughts raced, trying to figure out what was going on. There was only one being that he associated with candy, but even if the trickster was alive, he would have no reason to save Sam. Hell, he’d tried to kill Sam the last time they’d met. To be fair, it had been mutual, but the point stood.

A blush lit up his face as he realized that if it was the trickster, that meant he was flirting with him. He remembered the loaded glances and unsubtle onceovers from the trickster when he’d pretended to be a janitor. Sam had been interested in the cheerful man. It’d been disappointing but unsurprising to realize the janitor was actually the trickster. That was just how Sam’s life seemed to go.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed and started playing _Livin’ On A Prayer_ at full volume. Sam was startled out of his thoughts and scrambled to pull it out. His confusion mounted as he unlocked it and saw that, despite blasting the song, no apps were open to actually play it. The phone didn’t even get internet, it was just a burner used solely for calls and texts. It was literally impossible for it to be playing music.

Despite that, Sam couldn’t refute the evidence. The only other option was that he was completely out of his mind and hallucinating 80’s rock, which was even more worrying than whatever was actually happening.

He tried to put the pieces together. Something saved him from the demons, with a flash of bright light and what he thought had been wings. His eyes had closed without him closing them. There was candy left behind with a cheesy pickup line about angels, but all other evidence of the demons was gone, and Dean was healed. His phone was playing a Bon Jovi song.

Sam’s thoughts snagged on the song. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out why, before he suddenly got. His eyes widened in realization. _Livin’ On A_ _Prayer_ , _heaven, angel, wings._ He’d prayed for help with the demons. Had his prayers actually been answered?  Every hunter he’d ever spoken to said the same thing. Angels were a nice fantasy thought up by someone who didn’t know what monsters truly walked the Earth. And if his crazy theory was true, then did that mean he was completely off base regarding the trickster? Was he not involved at all?

The sound of slow clapping came from behind him, and Sam whirled around to see who was there. Amused golden eyes met his, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Congrats, you figured it out. Well, most of it anyway. Points for effort?” The trickster’s voice was the same, but the way he held himself was subtly different. His back was straighter, there was a dignified confidence in his stance that was somehow wholly different from the playful arrogance at Crawford Hall.

“Who-what are you?” Sam managed to get out, his thoughts whirling a mile a minute.

“I’m hurt toots, did you forget me so soon?” the trickster asked playfully. When Sam only glared, the being gave an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, fine. You’re lucky you’re pretty, Winchester, ‘doesn’t know how to take a joke’ isn’t the most attractive quality,” the trickster grumbled, before spreading his hands wide. “What d’you think I am? That big ol’ brain of yours probably has some ideas by now.”

Sam had one theory, but he was afraid to voice it for the ridicule it would surely bring forth. The trickster, an angel? It was laughable. But at the same time, everything added up.

“You’re… an angel?” Sam said hesitantly, not quite able to keep the question out of his voice. The trickster gave him an odd little smile. There was amusement in it, but it wasn’t actually happy.

“Got it in one. I guess Winchesters _can_ notice the obvious, if it’s right in front of their face and spelled out in giant neon letters, huh?”

Sam bristled. “I’m not that bad! Even Dean’s more observant than that!”

His statement brought a snort from the trickster (angel?). “Sure, keep telling yourself that. Anyway, time to get this show on the road. There’s things you need to know that don’t need to be said in a warehouse in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere. Never know who might be listening in.” With that, he raised his hand and snapped.

There was a moment of brief disorientation, and the next thing Sam knew, he was standing in the middle of a high-class hotel room. It was done up in creams and dark woods. There was a low chaise that Dean was sprawled out on, still asleep. Everything looked like it cost more money than Sam had ever seen in his life. The far wall was made entirely of glass, and looked out over a glittering night time cityscape.

“Bangkok. Like it? I always thought it was real pretty at night,” the trickster said as he looked out at the amazing view. “Proof of what you humans are capable of. Just because you started in the mud doesn’t mean you can’t create incredible beauty.”

Sam was confused, irritated, and a little bit frightened. Just because the trickster, angel, whatever, didn’t seem hostile right now didn’t mean his mood couldn’t change at the drop of a hat. He’d just proven he had more than enough power to wipe Sam and Dean off the face of the world if he wanted to. What was his game?

“What’s going on? Why are you doing this? Who are you really? You said you’re an _angel_ , but I know you’re a trickster. You seem like you’re trying to help with _something_ you haven’t bothered to mention, but as far as I can see, you don’t have any reason to help us. So what are you getting out of this? Is this all some elaborate trick?” The stream of questions burst from Sam without his permission, but he didn’t regret it. He needed answers damn it, and the trickster was being annoyingly vague about everything.

“Whoa, hold your jets. I can only answer one question at a time. Actually that’s not true, but you’d be incapable of comprehending it if I answered everything at once,” the trickster said as he turned to face Sam.  His eyes were intent, and Sam abruptly realized how close they were standing. He’d closed the distance between as he asked his questions and now they stood almost chest to chest. His body buzzed with awareness of the other.

“To start off, what’s going on is gonna take a long explanation that I’m not giving twice, so you’ll have to wait for your bro to wake up before hearing that. Suffice to say, it ain’t good.” Sam tried to interrupt but the trickster stopped him with a hand on his chest, which was surprising enough that he forgot what he was going to say. The trickster abruptly turned serious as he continued speaking.

“I’m doing this because I wasn’t lying back at the college when I told Dean I like you two. I like _you_ , Sam. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen someone that genuinely wants to do good as much as you do. Your soul glows brighter than any I’ve ever seen.”

Sam couldn’t have said anything to that if he wanted to. He was a good person? The trickster could see his soul? He had the sinking feeling that the trickster’s answers would bring up nothing but more questions.

“I guess that’s not the full answer. That’s the reason I came to you two, but I’m also doing this because I like the world. I like humans. Sure, some of ‘em do bad shit, but the same is true of literally every other species in existence. You can’t have the light without the dark, cosmic balance and all. But humans are capable of such good, such amazing feats. Sometimes I look around and it takes my breath away, and I don’t even need to breathe,” the trickster said with a small grin. His fingers started tapping against Sam’s chest, and Sam swallowed.

“You make it sound like the world’s not gonna be here soon. Like humanity will be gone,” Sam managed to rasp out through his constricted throat. The nearness of the trickster was starting to do funny things to him that he was trying desperately not to think about.

“That’s part of the explanation that needs to wait till your brother’s up. Suffice to say, neither are going anywhere if I have anything to say about it, and that’s where you two bozos come in. It’ll make more sense later. Promise!” The trickster was lighthearted for a moment before the levity disappeared and he was more serious than Sam had ever seen him. He stopped tapping his fingers as he caught and held Sam’s gaze with his own burning gold eyes.

“As for who I am, well. They call me Gabriel.”

There was no sign of joking on his face, no laughter or amusement. There was complete silence for a moment as the very air seemed to still. Sam couldn’t even breathe, he was so shocked. _Gabriel_? Did he mean…?

As if to answer the unspoken question, there was the sound of rustling feathers, and then there were six giant golden wings behind Gabriel. Sam could just barely see them, like they were there but covered by a veil of some kind, or a thick fog. Even so, they were breathtaking, awe-inspiring. They towered over both of them, reaching up past the ceiling and out beyond the wall of glass, seeming completely unbothered by physical objects in their path. The feathers looked soft and downy one second, and the next looked to be made of metal, shifting back and forth with no rhyme or reason that Sam could discern. They glittered with an otherworldly shine and wisps of what looked like golden fire rose off of them.

As if that wasn’t enough, a golden halo appeared above his head like a crown. It was made of the same golden feathers as his wings, interlocking somehow to form a circlet. It glittered even more than the wings and had the same fire rising from it, as well as the strange veil that stopped Sam from looking at it too closely.

“I’m keeping them mostly obscured so they don’t burn your eyes out. Most of the time humans can’t look at any part of our true forms without bad consequences,” Gabriel said as though reading his mind.

“And as for what I’m getting out of it, aside from what I mentioned earlier, there is something that I’m hoping for. I guess we’ll have to wait and see how that goes, though,” the trickster, _the archangel Gabriel_ , said with a wicked grin on his face, once more shifting moods. Sam was getting whiplash from all the back and forth between amused and serious.

Too fast for Sam to realize what he was doing, Gabriel leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away. Sam blinked at him, too stunned to speak.

Gabriel grinned at him and snapped his fingers, the wings and halo fading from view like they’d never been there. He walked around Sam, who turned to watch him go.

“Man, twenty questions really makes me hungry. What d’you say to some pancakes? Whatever toppings you want! I’ll even snap up some fruit for you, despite my personal feelings on the matter.” Gabriel disappeared into the kitchen, still talking about pancakes.

Sam stayed where he was for a moment. He had just been kissed by an angel. By the _archangel Gabriel._ And now he was being offered pancakes by him.

“If you don’t hurry they’ll be cold, and I won’t warm them up for you. There’s nothing worse than a soggy lukewarm pancake, let me tell you,” Gabriel shouted from the other room.

That startled a laugh from Sam, and he headed for the kitchen. Pancakes with an archangel, who was making his interest in Sam obvious, and also happened to be plenty hot himself?

Who was Sam to turn down an offer like that?

**Author's Note:**

> Gabriel: tapdances in front of Sam with giant cardboard-cutout angel wings covered in glitter stuck to his back, to the tune of a heavenly choir, and in the background are flashing neon lights that spell 'archangel'
> 
> Sam, squinting in consideration: could it be? u are... an angel????
> 
> Gabriel: weeps in thank fuck he finally got it


End file.
